


A Dance With Wolves

by PancakeWrites



Series: Yurileth Week 2020 baby [3]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Prompt-dancing, Yurileth Week 2020, i'm just soft, slightly beta'd for once, when do i not write fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:42:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24314479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PancakeWrites/pseuds/PancakeWrites
Summary: The festivities of Garreg Mach are not to be missed, but Byleth had never been one for parties. Instead he seeks out solitude and, perhaps an unlikely dance partner.
Relationships: Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Yurileth Week 2020 baby [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747075
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	A Dance With Wolves

**Author's Note:**

> Wowee boys, I'm late with this one. I kept debating how many of the works I did for yurileth week I would actually post. This one was one of my favorite prompts though, so I had to. Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> As a side note, I recommend listening to the cover of Danse Macabre by The Oh Hellos. It's where I got a lot of my inspiration for this. Something about the tones of that song works for them, I think.

The chill of the night air is a sharp contrast to the warm flickering lights in the grand halls of Garreg Mach, the laughter of students and the distant cords of music drifting faintly through the air as Byleth wanders the courtyards. It was no easy feat escaping the hordes of students wanting to dance with him, the young professor wandering if it was by miracle alone that he slipped away unnoticed. He had really only attended out of obligation more than anything else. Crowds are unnerving, for one thing, and he would rather not make a fool of himself trying to follow all the etiquette required for such events. Besides, there’s only one person he would really care to dance with, and they have yet to make an appearance.

A heavy sigh escapes him as he stands in the open, a lone figure in the dark on a night of merriment. There’s an undeniable disappointment that sits heavy in his stomach at the sense that the one thing he has wanted all evening may not happen at all. Really he shouldn’t be surprised. Yuri isn’t the type of person for stuffy social events filled with strict rules and false politeness. And unlike the students, he’s not required to attend. Still, the other Ashen Wolves had been some of the first to arrive. Eager, perhaps, to feel a little more like a normal part of the monastery’s community.

What he wouldn’t give for just one night with Yuri, however fleeting, that he might establish a deeper connection with him, a chance to express the odd things he feels whenever Yuri is around. And maybe, just maybe, a chance to-

“Well, well, what do we have here?” A dulcet voice sings from the shadows. “Dangerous creatures roam in the dark and they tend to pick on pretty things like you.” A shiver runs down Byleth’s spine, and while it’s not unpleasant, he’s sure it has nothing to do with the cold.

“If that’s the case, I know a few birds that ought to be more careful,” Byleth replies with an ease that catches even himself off guard.

An angelic laugh rings in his ears as Yuri steps into view. Byleth has to bite back a smile at the tinge of color that dusts his face.

“Very good! You sounded like a natural.”

“I’ve been spending a lot of time with an expert.”

“Oh? Am I a bad influence?” Yuri trills, leaning casually in Byleth’s direction.

“Maybe a little,” Byleth says, trying to fight back the usual nervousness he feels around Yuri that’s steadily bubbling up beneath his indifferent exterior. “You’re wearing the uniform,” he notes in slight surprise.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I guess I am.” Yuri casually adjusts the short shawl-like fabric that drapes from the shoulders.

“I’m surprised you’re here.”

“Truth be told I wasn’t planning to, but after I heard you personally saw to it that the Ashen Wolves were invited  _ and  _ given the uniform, I thought it would be rather ungrateful of me if I didn’t show up at all. At the very least to come see you.”

Byleth’s pulse flutters in his veins. “To see me?” he asks stupidly.

“Unless you don’t want me to thank you, which, if that’s the case, is a damn shame because I’m doing it anyway. So thanks.”

“Oh. Of course.” Byleth fidgets, his eyes finding Yuri’s boots.

Almost by accident his gaze begins to travel upwards, studying the way the uniform fits Yuri. The slacks cling to his legs not unflattering, showing off the curves of his calves, leading to his thighs and hips, where Byleth stares perhaps a bit too long, before moving on. The coat is tad too big for Yuri’s slender form, but then, it’s hard to fit things perfectly to someone so thin, still the outfit suits him overall, and Byleth's glad he made the effort to get the Wolves their own uniforms.

Byleth finally returns to Yuri’s face, but it isn’t until the latter clears his throat expectantly that Byleth notices his arched brows, too busy trying to determine if Yuri’s wearing a different shade of lipstick to realize he’s been caught.

“You know, the thing about your staring isn’t just that you do it, but that you don’t even try to be subtle,” Yuri says as casually as though they’re discussing their favorite foods.

For Byleth’s part he turns as red as Lorenz’s fake rose.

“O-oh, um, sorry. The-the uniform. It suits you,” Byleth fumbles.

Relief washes over him as Yuri laughs, fingertips grazing Byleth’s upper arm.

“I’m used to that from you by now, trust me. Glad to know you like this though. Makes me hate wearing it a little less.”

“It does suit you,” Byleth repeats, a little more firmly.

“So what brings you out here anyway? Their little party not all it’s cracked up to be?” Yuri asks, curiously dodging the complement.

“Sort of. The music is nice. And the food. But I didn’t expect to be so...popular,” Byleth states awkwardly, like the word is foreign. “I barely had room to breathe in there.”

“That’s understandable. You should hear what some of the students say about you though. I’d take advantage of the situation, if I were you.”

“I suppose, but I can’t even dance that well. I’d probably look like a fish out of water.” Byleth sighs, causing the smirk on Yuri’s lips to turn into a small frown.

“But that’s not the only thing.”

“Huh?”

“Honestly.” Yuri shakes his head. “People say you’re emotionless, but you’re quite easy to read if one knows how to pay attention. And that happens to be one of my specialties. So what’s troubling you, friend?”

Byleth rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, turning to stare at the squares of golden light that form the monastery windows. “I...might have been hoping for a dance with a certain individual.”

From the corner of his vision, Byleth swears he sees Yuri’s face fall, an almost hurt expression that immediately grabs his attention. But it’s gone as soon as he turns to face Yuri fully, replaced with a thoughtful tilt of the head.

“I’m guessing you didn’t get this dance.”

“No.”

“That’s too bad. Whoever they are, they’re lucky to have  _ you _ fawning over them. I doubt they really deserve it anyway.” He sounds like he means it. He couldn’t be more wrong.

“I don’t know, I think it’s the other way around, really.”

“Now I’m curious. Who could possibly be too good for Garreg Mach’s most popular professor?”

Frantically Byleth’s mind scrambles for an excuse not to answer, something good enough to throw off an investigative person like Yuri. He’s saved the effort by the sudden sound of familiar music notes carrying through the courtyard.

“I know this song!” He chirps, pleased with himself for recognizing it.

“You do? Where did you hear  _ this?” _ Yuri asks.

Again Byleth falters. He can’t possibly admit that he practiced one or two popular songs with Manuela with the hope that he might dance with Yuri.

“Ah, I heard it...in a tavern once.”

“You heard this song in a tavern.”

“Yes.”

Yuri folds his arms, doubt clear in his eyes. “If you say so.”

Byleth takes a steady inhale, feeling like the fish out of water he had alluded to earlier. If he’s going to do this, now’s the chance. He offers his hand, straining to keep eye contact.

“Would you care to dance?”

Once more a light shade of pink rises to Yuri’s cheeks, made evident by the moon overhead, but he takes Byleth’s hand. “Fine, but you’re leading if you know it so well.”

Yuri places his free hand on Byleth’s shoulder, instantly bringing them close. For a split second Byleth feels his brain malfunction, almost causing him to pull back.

_ Deep breaths,  _ he tells himself.

He slides his hand around Yuri’s waste, surprised by just  _ how  _ thin he is. Sure, he looks gangly, and is mostly legs, despite his height, but now that Byleth can actually feel the shape of his figure, Yuri really does remind Byleth of a tiny songbird. Interesting how someone so seemingly fragile cuts fear into others with words alone.

“You’re awfully spacey tonight. Are you sure you should be on your feet?” It’s said lightly, but Byleth can detect enough concern in the words to know he must have really been out of it.

“Just trying to remember the steps.”

Indeed the moves are like a distant memory, now that he needs them. As though they’re a language he learned lifetimes ago rather than a silly practice session on a sunny afternoon a few days ago.

Three steps forward, one step back. Or was it supposed to be four steps forward? The next part was a sway, wasn’t it? Had that been the other song he tried to learn? Goddess, how can he focus on what to do when his senses are wonderfully distracted by the sweet scent of lilies and honeysuckle, the heat of Yuri’s body particularly warm against the cold night.

“Byleth.”

“Hm?”

“Relax.”

“Relax?”

“It’s just a silly school dance, I don’t care if you step on my feet. Just try not to do it  _ too _ much, yeah? And...look at your partner, not your feet.”

Right. Manuela had spent most of their practice lecturing him on the importance of keeping eye contact with your partner. She had also told him not to forget how to breathe.

But there’s only one feeling he has when he meets dark eyelashes that flutter over lilac irises.

Breathless.

Yuri gives Byleth’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. This is something he’s dreamed of every night since Rhea told him about the ball. Byleth closes his eyes and releases a slow sigh then starts again, sweeping into the flow of the music with renewed determination. It may be a silly school dance, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still strive to impress.

The song picks up its pace and so too does Byleth’s faltered confidence as their movements carry them across the courtyard, moonlight shimmering in a silver spotlight overhead, the only witness to their rendezvous.

Each step becomes more natural and before long Byleth finds himself lost in the steady river of the music, turning and swaying like he was meant for this, like he finally knows what he’s supposed to be doing, who he’s supposed to be with. All the while he fixates on the way Yuri looks in the evening light.

The song ends with a twirl and a dip, and when the instruments fade out and Byleth’s world stops with them. They’re a lot closer than intended. He had executed the little twirl perfectly, but he must have pulled back too quickly. He shouldn’t be able to make out individual flecks of powder in Yuri’s eyeshadow.

Yuri’s lashes have always been pretty, but this close Byleth can see how long and delicate they really are. Beneath them the stars dance in his eyes, tiny pinpricks of light in a lavender sea. Unconsciously Byleth’s gaze flickers down to Yuri’s lips.

He was right in his guess; the usual shade of light pink has been replaced with something a few shades darker, but still those lips look so soft and inviting, and they’re so  _ close.  _ Byleth can feel Yuri’s every breath against his skin, causing gooseflesh to rise on his arms in the frigid night. All he has to do is lean in a little more. It could be an accident, even.

His head barely tilts towards the other, and the way Yuri’s lips part ever so slightly gives Byleth the final push he needs to-

Somewhere nearby a twig snaps, causing Byleth to yank them roughly back to their feet, standing awkwardly in each other’s arms, waiting. A bird leaps from the bushes, taking flight above them.

“Just a bird,” Byleth whispers.

“A bird,” Yuri echoes.

It pains Byleth to do so, but he lets go of Yuri, whatever it was that had just been between them having been doused out.

“So, um, will you be going back? They’re sure to notice their favorite professor is missing,” Yuri asks eventually.

“Maybe. Briefly. Just so they don’t get suspicious.”

“Then what?”

“Well,” Byleth says slowly, clinging to the one hope he has to find that spark again. “I did hear some fun stories about the Goddess Tower.”

“Yeah?” Yuri smiles, a bit hopeful.

“Something about making a wish together. I um, don’t have anyone to go with, if you want to.”

“A secret dance and a romantic escapade to the Goddess Tower? Byleth, is this a date?” Yuri asks, having regained his usual demeanor with a quickness that Byleth envies.

“That depends. Do you want it to be?”

“I might consider it.”

“Then consider it a date.” With that Byleth turns back towards the ball to make his presence known.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he’s almost certain he hears Sothis say

_ “There may be hope for you yet.” _

**Author's Note:**

> If you'll allow me to gush over classical music, I ADORE the original Danse Macabre. It's dark and dramatic and fast and I could listen to it all day. 'Twould also make for a good dramatic duel song with the duelists moving more like dancers than sword fighters. That said, somebody give me a dramatic yurileth ballet or something, at least design pretty costumes!


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